


Hope

by Dalet



Series: ∞ beginnings [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Episode AU: s10e22 The Prisoner, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Castiel/Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7181636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalet/pseuds/Dalet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now almost 30, Balthazar and Castiel meet for the first time since their teens, when Castiel's parents forcibly separated them by sending Castiel to a school far away.</p>
<p>The road to their reunion began eight months earlier, when Castiel, bleeding and shaken, picked himself off the floor and walked out of his home of seven long years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This AU (which I hope to post more of, as there's plenty of it) basically wrote itself the moment I found out about the end of 10x22. As a victim myself, I'm furious. All I can hope is for Cass, and all of us, someday to be able to walk away and stay safe.

The rising sun brings just a touch of warmth to the fading night air; it’s what Daphne likes best about jogging at dawn.

That and the solitude.

She’s surprised to see another person coming her way, walking slowly right along the river’s edge.

_That’s not safe,_ Daphne thinks to herself, aiming wide of the stranger as she passes them. She would have thought no more of it, if she hadn’t caught a glimpse of their face.

Daphne stops in shock; the stranger keeps walking, unaware. She approaches gingerly, tapping them on the arm.

“H-hey, are you all right?”

It sounds so obvious to her, but she could swear the stranger looks surprised under all the blood.

 

* * *

**» 8 months later «**

* * *

 

Six people; not so bad, Balthazar thinks as he joins the coffee shop queue. No one looking quite as enamoured with the brisk morning air as himself, though.

With time to spare and a drink to savour, he takes a seat, casting a casual glance about the store, momentarily catching the eye of a stranger.

Just long enough, though, to recognize him.

Castiel quickly looks away, tensing in his booth as the other person’s shadow crosses the floor towards him.

“ _What?_ ” he snaps, glaring upwards.

“S-sorry,” startled, Balthazar raises his hands placatingly before turning away. He’d been so certain, but…

“--wait!”

Castiel - yes, it _is_ him! - half risen out of his seat, gapes at Balthazar. He sinks slowly back down, glancing away, seeming stunned.

“...Cass?”

“Y-yeah,” he murmurs, almost too faintly to hear. He grips the table, bracing himself, then looks up cautiously. “...Balthazar?”

“Can I--?” Balthazar gestures at the opposite seat. “May I--?”

Castiel nods and Balthazar slides in. Without even thinking, he reaches across the table, laying his hands on Cass’.

Cass stiffens, but smiles and shakes his head when Balthazar starts to pull back.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Balthazar says, finally, as Cass shyly laces their fingers.

“Me neither,” Castiel answers, deadly serious.

“I know, God-” Balthazar bites his lip. “I’m so sorry, I never-”

“No--” Cass cuts in abruptly, pained. “I’ve missed you so much, all this time--” His voice softens, and he tries to smile. “I heard about what you did, filing the missing persons report…”

“A lot of good that was,” Balthazar murmurs. “We couldn’t help you.”

“But I _knew_ you were trying. You have no idea…” Cass trails off momentarily, leaning away. “...how much that helped.”

They sit in silence for several minutes, Cass’ eyes flicking between Balthazar and the window, Balthazar blinking back tears. Castiel shifts restlessly, always about to speak and reconsidering.

“Do you live here?” he asks suddenly.

“Yes,” Balthazar answers. “Just on my way to work, actually.”

“Oh. ...sorry.”

“No, please, it’s fine,” Balthazar squeezes Castiel’s hands, just lightly. “I have time, I drove here. Can I drop you somewhere?”

“No--” Castiel starts, catching himself and sheepishly pulling his hands away. “I mean, no, thank you. ...I drove here, too,” he mumbles as explanation.

Balthazar tilts his head, but Castiel, catching his breath, speaks up again.

“Do you want to...walk me to my car?” He even smiles.

“I’d love to.”

 

* * *

 

Balthazar hadn’t noticed the bulging tote bag on the seat next to Castiel, which seems to be weighing him down as they walk. He does notice the duffel in the back as Cass heaves his cargo onto the passenger’s side seat.

“I’m just...moving,” Castiel offers mildly.

“Out of town?” Balthazar blurts out, his heart sinking, but Castiel shakes his head.

“No...thankfully. It’s just a little early to pick up my key, so...” he shrugs.

“So you’re out in the cold?” Balthazar jokes. “-ah!” He digs into his pocket and offers his own to Cass, jingling it playfully. “Why not wait at my place instead?”

He senses a critical error when Castiel frowns, staring first at the key, then at Balthazar, with deep suspicion.

“Why?” he asks slowly.

“Not to be conceited,” Balthazar tries to reassure him with a quick smile, “but it’s more comfortable than your car.”

“Yeah, but _why?_ ” Cass asks again, more forcefully. The creeping terror has his chest in a vise grip, and he wraps his arms protectively across his stomach.

“Why not? Just lock up when you’re done and take it with you,” Balthazar continues with a genial shrug. “It’s no trouble at all; I’ve a spare at work.”

“‘No trouble’? You’ve just _met_ me!” Cass almost shouts, completely bewildered.

“Well, yes, but…” Balthazar licks his lips thoughtfully, trying to explain. “You’re not a _stranger,_ Cass. I trust you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Castiel turns on his heel and almost walks away, confused and frustrated.

Balthazar hastily returns the key to his pocket. “I’m sorry,” he calls after a moment. “You’re right, that was too forward of me.”

Castiel looks back at him cautiously. Balthazar offers him a warm, hopefully apologetic, smile, and Cass can’t help a blush.

“No, it’s fine, I’m sorry for-” he bites his lip, but relaxes and smiles after a moment, walking around the car to Balthazar and rubbing his arm as he thinks. “I _really_ would like to...see you again.”

It’s a question, posed very carefully.

“God, yes, of course,” Balthazar murmurs. He reaches out and gently brushes Castiel’s arm, smiling reassuringly. “Can I make you dinner sometime?”

“Really?” Cass looks hopeful, so much so it makes Balthazar’s heart ache. “When?"

“Sometime soon?”

“Ton--” Castiel stops, flushing deeply. “T-tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” Balthazar agrees brightly. “And I’ll miss you terribly until then.”

Castiel smiles, looking deeply touched and, Balthazar notices up close, bone tired.

 

* * *

 

Cass arrives for dinner in the same oversized-black-hoodie-and-jeans combo he’d been wearing for coffee, and seems embarrassed for it when Balthazar answers the door in a crisp button-up (not _all_ the way up).

“Oops,” he murmurs, very deliberately, rallying himself at least enough to joke.

“Wrong address?” Balthazar teases, ushering Cass inside.

Castiel enters slowly, craning his neck to look all around with the minimum of steps taken, as though he might reconsider staying at all.

“Sorry I’m underdressed,” he mumbles distractedly, peering into the living room.

“Now, now,” Balthazar chuckles. “Given _I’m_ the one who can run and change, why don’t we agree I’m _over_ dressed?”

Cass glances back over his shoulder, uncertain, then gives in to a soft laugh. “Sure.”

Encouraged, Balthazar offers him a slight bow. “May I take your coat, my dear?”

A slier glance, and Cass hums lowly, as though deep in thought.

“Hmm, you know, I’m not even sure I can _afford_ to eat in a place like this,” he sighs, feigning bashfulness as he stares at his hands.

“Oh, not to worry, darling. It’s on the house,” Balthazar assures him. “The chef is quite taken with you. He sends his compliments,” he adds, with an airy wave of his hand.

“His compliments on…?”

Balthazar offers only a sweetly suggestive smirk. “His compliments.”

A real smile spreads slowly over Cass’ face, until he looks away again, as though embarrassed to laugh in front of Balthazar.

“What?” Balthazar calls, grinning. “Have I changed too much?”

Cass scoffs, then does laugh.

“Or not at all?”

Castiel turns and fixes Balthazar with a truly fond smile. “It’s not changed, so much as…” He thumbs his lower lip thoughtfully. “You’re just... _more._ ”

“More…?” Balthazar raises an eyebrow expectantly, but Castiel gives only a very familiar smirk.

“More,” he repeats softly.

“Oh...” Balthazar feels very warm as he heads back to the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

 Castiel holds his breath as Balthazar spreads their meal on the table, moving in and out of the kitchen with the enormous pot of pasta, four different sauces on the side, salad, baguette, two different wines, and the juice Castiel requested.

The more he lays out, the more Cass starts to feel ill. This is it, he hasn’t been here thirty minutes and he’s going to humiliate himself; he can’t possibly finish any of this.

Looking very satisfied, Balthazar eagerly begins to fill a plate, then stops abruptly.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, looking contrite. “Did you want to say Grace?”

Surprised, Cass shakes his head stiffly. “No, I don’t...do that anymore,” he says, very quietly.

“Fair enough,” Balthazar smiles and quickly resumes his meal. Cass doesn’t move.

“This is...a lot for two people.” He watches Balthazar very carefully for his answer.

“Oh, for now, sure,” Balthazar nods. “The great thing about any of these is they’ll keep for a week, at least,” he adds proudly, meeting Cass’ eyes. “You can take home as much as you like.”

Cass holds his gaze for a long moment, just to be sure, then finally exhales, slowly smiling as he reaches for the pot. “Yeah...I will.”

Relieved, Balthazar smiles back and digs happily into his salad.

“...you remembered.” Castiel seems so tragically grateful when Balthazar looks back up that it gives him a chill.

“Call it nostalgia,” he quips, almost uneasily. "I only thought it best to be safe."

“Thank you…” Cass murmurs, finally relaxing, a deep swell of warmth almost making him tear up.

Balthazar doesn’t mean to stare, and resumes his meal feeling a little unsettled.

 

* * *

 

“-but it’s just a _touch_ difficult to build camaraderie when I don’t know if he’ll laugh or fire me,” Balthazar explains as he rinses off the cutting board and slips it into the dishwasher.

Cass laughs, leaning against the doorframe. He’d followed Balthazar to the kitchen after supper, but stopped abruptly at the threshold, hovering awkwardly at first as Balthazar continued his tale of workplace tribulation.

“Still, it’s all right, I like it,” Balthazar shrugs, picking up the chef’s knife and running the long blade under the faucet. “The people who _aren’t_ in control of my paycheque are all perfectly companionable.”

The knife joins the cutting board and Balthazar looks up, but Cass is gone.

Balthazar’s stomach tightens and starts to sink, but halfway to the kitchen door, thankfully, he hears the TV come on.

He wavers, still unsure, then returns to his chore, but the otherwise total silence gives way to the creeping dread from dinner, and he hurries to join Cass in the living room.

Castiel is wedged neatly into one corner of the sofa, hugging a cushion, the hood of his sweater pulled fully over his head and his knees drawn up to his chin. He doesn’t react when Balthazar takes a seat, seemingly wholly absorbed in the programme.

So much so that Balthazar can’t quite tell if he’s breathing.

Even when he smiles, clutching the cushion tighter, Balthazar can’t shake his concern. There’s a distance in Cass’ eyes that seems to stretch far beyond the television, and it’s a good twenty minutes in all before he turns to Balthazar, uncurling just enough to speak.

“Hi,” he smiles dazedly, sounding rather tired.

“Hello,” Balthazar smiles back nervously. He knows he gave Castiel a shock, and he doesn’t want to do it again, but it seems wrong to ask about it when Cass seems so relaxed.

“Sorry I--” Cass’ would-be apology is cut off by a rather extravagant yawn, and Balthazar can’t help but chuckle.

“Whatever you meant to say, darling, don’t worry about it a bit.” He reaches out, playfully brushing Cass’ cheek.

Castiel seems to take it as an invitation, settling his head onto Balthazar’s shoulder, and Balthazar naturally winds an arm around him before he even realizes how startled he is by the sudden closeness. The Castiel he met in the café, the one he just shared a meal with, was downright skittish; now Cass shyly reaches for his hand, and Balthazar happily laces their fingers, thumb stroking his skin.

Cass smiles, his knees brushing over Balthazar’s lap as he squeezes the cushion tighter. He thinks he was dozing, or something like that, slowly coming to now under gentle touches and soft silence. It’s warm and soothing.

For him, anyways.

“Sorry,” he shifts, not trying to move away, just to explain. “I’m a bit…”

“Lonely?” Balthazar isn’t sure why he speaks up so quickly, but Cass stiffens at the word, and Balthazar regrets his perceptiveness. “No, never mind me--”

“I work at home,” Castiel cuts in. He’s awake now, his heartbeat quickening. “I don’t really go out, or, or know anyone--which is f-fine, fine--well, no, it’s just...the last few months even _more_ , I’ve been, um...”

“Touch-starved,” Balthazar offers, and Cass nods urgently, relieved. He’s not sure he’s ever heard the word before, but he _feels_ it deeply. Very lightly, Balthazar kisses his temple and tugs Cass’ legs fully onto his lap. Cass shudders, suppressing a sob, then fairly melts, pressing close.

“Here…” Balthazar reaches off to the side and offers Castiel a small box wrapped with a ribbon. “Just a little housewarming gift for your new place,” he explains as Cass unwraps it gingerly.

“...oh…” Cass’ heart sinks as he pulls out the beautiful, smoothly carved cat bookends. Of _course_ he could ruin even this. “I don’t have any books anymore,” he whispers. “I couldn’t, um…”

“You had to sell them?!” Balthazar doesn’t mean to sound so shocked, mumbling an apology even as Castiel shakes his head. “You had to _leave_ them? At your old place? Can, can I get them back for you--?”

But Cass merely shakes his head harder. “No, not there, I- I had to leave them...a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Balthazar murmurs, stunned. “I didn’t realize…” Castiel had treasured every one of his books. They were his lifeline; they always had been. Even when Cass had nothing else, he’d had his books. They were his oldest friends.

“I can’t even imagine what must have happened, that you had to abandon them…”

Only now, Balthazar realizes guiltily, is the gravity of Cass’ situation sinking in, and he mumbles another inadequate apology. Cass eyes him uncertainly, fidgeting with his gift.

“Aren’t you curious?” he asks, his voice deliberately even. “About _why,_ or what happened…?”

“Oh, naturally. It’s the human condition, etc. etc.” Balthazar admits, his hand still trailing over Cass’ back. “That doesn’t give me the _right_ to know. I won’t ask.”

Castiel nods, then smiles.

“But, Cass,” Balthazar hurries to add, “if you _want_ to tell me, if that’s what I can do for you, then of course I’m here to listen. Just...know that, please.”

Cass’ smile fades, and he studies Balthazar’s face very carefully, painfully apprehensive. “Yeah, I--” He looks away, shifting his weight in Balthazar’s lap, trying to stop the trembling, then trying to stop the tears, then finally looking back, anguished.

“I don’t even _have_ a place for books anymore--” he laughs bitterly at himself between sobs. “I don’t-- I don’t even _live_ in an apartment--”

Balthazar leans forward, loosely hugging Cass’ shoulders with one arm. “You’re not living in your car, are you?”

Castiel shakes his head. “No, I-” he almost scoffs. “I live in a motel. I moved there from another motel.” He pauses, taking a deep, uneven breath. “I think I’ve lived in _every_ motel in this city. Except for the address, they’re all exactly the same, right down to the price.”

“That must be terribly expensive to keep up.” Balthazar offers Cass a tissue. “Is it that hard to find an apartment here?”

“No, not _hard,_ ” Cass worries the tissue in his hands, ripping it in half by accident before lifting it to his cheeks. “It’s just not _safe._ Motels...you know. There’s no lease to sign, so…”

“So you can leave first thing on a Wednesday morning,” Balthazar nods along. “Yes, I see. That’s very clever.”

Cass looks up sharply, searching for a veiled insult. Balthazar gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Can I help you look? You know, _this_ place is quite safe-”

Castiel laughs hoarsely. “I could _not_ afford a place like this.”

“Not even when the chef likes you?” Balthazar starts to joke, but stops and shakes his head when Cass shrinks back.

“No, I mean…” Balthazar mulls over his words, “you could stay with me while we look.”

Cass goes still, his restless hands dropping the shredded tissue as he studies Balthazar’s face, trying to place his motives. Genuine kindness is a stranger, but Balthazar...is not.

Castiel doesn’t _want_ him to be.

It’s been so very long, but Balthazar was a good friend.

“Thank you,” says Cass, very quietly, his unsure gaze slowly giving way to a grateful smile. “I’m not...ready, yet, but...” he looks away, shyly, just for a moment, “thank you.”

“Of course, I understand,” Balthazar cups his cheek warmly, Cass leaning into the touch happily. “-oh, but hang on!”

Castiel tilts his head curiously when Balthazar suddenly stands, hurrying in and out of the bedroom. He pauses in front of Cass, clearing his throat and turning something over in his hands.

"I know I overstepped yesterday,” he begins, steady and sincere, “and I hope I’m not doing it again, but-”

Balthazar slips onto the sofa next to Cass and gently takes his hand. “I would really like you to have this.”

He presses a single key into Castiel’s palm, and Cass doesn’t need to ask what it is.

“You don’t have to use it,” Balthazar assures him, “but if you ever need a safe place, for an hour, or a month, whether I’m here or not, it doesn’t matter-” he shakes his head, clasping both Cass’ hands in his own. “This is _your_ home, too, anytime.”

Castiel stares at their hands, together in his lap. When he finally looks up, his jaw set, Balthazar is almost sure he’s made another terrible mistake.

“Thank you, really,” Cass says, quietly forceful. “I _am_ sorry I didn’t trust you yesterday, I just...” He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long, weary sigh.

“I’m sorry I assumed you did,” Balthazar answers earnestly. “I wasn’t thinking, I was just...too hopeful.”

“ _Yes--_ yes…” Castiel nods urgently. “Seeing you again, I didn’t know what to do. It gave me so _much_ hope _,_ all at once, and I-- I almost couldn’t come here. It _hurt._ ...I didn’t know if I could trust you.”

“I’m so glad you did, Cassie, I’m so glad,” Balthazar grasps Cass’ hands tightly. “Thank you…”

“I _wanted_ to,” Castiel leans forward, eyes bright. “I _wanted_ to see you again, and I _want_ to trust you, and I want--”

He stammers, glancing out the window. Balthazar lifts their hands, his lips brushing Cass’ fingers as he smiles.

“I want to be happy,” says Castiel.

“I want to help you.” says Balthazar. “Anyway I can.”

Cass beams at him.

“Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> [1] “...you remembered.” As a child, over at Balthazar's for dinner, Cass was painfully self-conscious of how little he ate, never able to finish his plate, so Balthazar's parents just stopped serving anybody set portions at all.
> 
> * * *
> 
> The "8 months later" and café meeting were inspired by Kaiyote's ["Begin Again"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6268969) fanvid.
> 
> * * *
> 
> For more of this AU, see [HERE](https://everymeloveseveryyou.tumblr.com/tagged/u:%2010x22%20fixit/chrono).


End file.
